


Properly

by karotsamused



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10091933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karotsamused/pseuds/karotsamused
Summary: Roy can’t help but smirk. “You’re lucky I find your clumsy attempts at seduction to be charming, Edward.”Ed’s answering grin is quick and sharp. “Whatever gets the job done.”(Seriously, nothing but porn)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Y'ever just want a coupla fellas to fuck all afternoon and feel nice about it?  
> Here you go.
> 
> Multiple years post-canon. Ed's an adult - insert handwaving here, don't worry about a thing.
> 
> (Thanks to my Bean, as always, for your patience, your humor, and allowing me to go "AUGHGHGHGH" a lot.)

An alchemical ward, when activated, provides various levels of security. The most subtle warn the ward’s owner with a light or a sound somewhere else, and the least subtle explode to deter any would-be assailants. The best wards, of course, are nearly invisible and slightly less than lethal. 

Roy’s particular favorite is a variant of his own array that, when disturbed, sucks all of the oxygen out of the near vicinity with such swift violence as to knock said disturbance completely unconscious. It is elegant, simple, and vindictive if only because his assailants never crumple in an area with a soft landing.

Of course, alchemy always leaves a sign, and an experienced alchemist can find a ward if he knows where to look. An experienced alchemist could also, with enough study and daring, disable a ward and leave it where it had been drawn, but not without fundamentally disturbing its inner workings in the deactivation.

A non-alchemist could also disable a ward, with enough study and altogether more daring. That it is possible doesn’t mean it’s likely.

Unless, of course, that non-alchemist is Edward Elric.

Whether it’s Ed’s ability to duck Roy’s security or his unerring sense of just where Roy likes to keep his wards is more frightening is moot. Foolishly, and to his unending frustration, Roy gave him a key some weeks ago. Now, Ed just pursues these exercises for fun.

Still, there is much to be said for coming home to the surprise of Ed in his underclothes, damp hair loose around his shoulders, poking irritably underneath the protective plate over his automail knee.

From the doorway, Roy takes a moment to check him. No new scars, that Roy can see. Water clinging between his shoulders and at his flesh ankle. Tape wrapped around the middle finger of his right hand. The same battered trunk leaned up against the wall, clasps undone, Ed’s boots on their sides beside it. Roy’s last clean towel in a pile on the floor, half over Ed’s traveling clothes. Ah, but he had the decency to hang his suspenders from the knob of the closet door.

“You just gonna gawk or can you get in here and gimme better light?” asks Ed, not looking up.

Roy hums, crossing the room to turn on his bedside lamp. The warm yellow amplifies the last golden threads of sunset. He moves away from the lamp to hang up his uniform coat, then sits beside Ed, out of the light, to untie his boots.

“What did you get in it?” he asks, tugging his socks off.

Ed makes a cross little noise and huffs, “Dunno. Prob’ly a single damn’ grain of sand. Been feeling off since I got off the train.”

“Mm,” says Roy, leaning in closer. He pulls a glove from his pocket and snaps, balancing the flickering flame just so over his fingertips. “Let me see.”

“Your hands ain’t good for delicate operations,” says Ed, even as he shifts to comply.

“Oh, aren’t they?” murmurs Roy. There isn’t an irritant that he can see, aside from the man attached to the automail. “Kettle, thou art black.”

Ed leans back on his elbows and snorts. “Yeah, well. It’ll probably shake loose eventually. Doesn’t hurt.”

Roy holds the flame close as he dares to Ed’s knee, then decides the oldest trick might be best. He blows, short and sharp, right under the knee plate. Ed shivers, thighs tensing.

So that’s how it is. Already, there’s an inviting tent in Ed’s shorts. Roy blows again, to watch it twitch.

“Pretty sure you got it,” breathes Ed. A flush creeps up his neck, over his cheeks. “But you can stay there if you want.”

Roy can’t help but smirk. He snaps the knee plate back into place and extinguishes the flame. He rises, pulling his glove off. “You’re lucky I find your clumsy attempts at seduction to be charming, Edward.”

Ed’s answering grin is quick and sharp. “Whatever gets the job done.”

Roy hums. “If you’d be so kind as to get your clothes off the floor, I’d appreciate it. I can’t seem to get in the mood with such a mess.”

“Don’t lie,” says Ed as he rolls off the bed. “You wanna see me bend over.”

And bend he does, right from the waist. Ed’s always been flexible, but damn whoever taught him how devastating it could be. (That Roy’s spent languid mornings mouthing the crease where Ed’s thigh meets his ass has nothing to do with it, he’s sure.) It’s clear the little shit is well aware of it, from the easy pace he takes gathering his towel and clothes, and from the second slow stretch in which he indulges in the name of sliding his boxers down his legs.

A more poetic man could write a sonnet to the curve of shadow between Ed’s thighs. Roy is busy exercising his restraint, getting his own pants off and hung safely away. Dry cleaning on the uniform is covered based on his position, but he can’t in good conscience send anything in with a stain (again). His forethought pays off when Ed plasters himself to Roy’s back, impatient. Ed leans over him, reveling in the scant inch he has on Roy now, starting to undo the button at Roy’s collar.

Roy leans back into him, feeling the line of Ed’s cock hardening against his ass. “Eager, aren’t you,” he breathes. “Have you missed me so much?”

Ed rolls his hips, pressing his wet mouth to the point of Roy’s jaw. His hands are deft, impatient. “Sure. I’m still in my fuckin’ sexual prime. You forget what that’s like already?”

With a deceptively light laugh, Roy shoots one hand back to catch Ed hard by the hair. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Undeterred, Ed slides his hand into Roy’s shorts to cup him. His hot, callused grip makes Roy jerk. Pleased, Ed worms his tongue into Roy’s ear.

And oh, it must have been too long, because Roy gives in so easily. He lets Ed pull his cock free, leans his head back against Ed’s shoulder.

Ed smells like his soap. His wet hair tangles around Roy’s fingers. He spits into his palm for a little slick, then curls his hand around Roy’s cock and strokes. It punches a sigh out of Roy, makes his eyes close. He tips his head back further and murmurs, “Yes, oh.”

Ed watches down the line of Roy’s body, nibbling distractedly on the column of Roy’s throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, reverent, sliding his other hand up Roy’s undershirt. He drags blunt fingernails over Roy’s stomach, tracing old scar tissue. He thumbs over Roy’s nipple, and again. He laughs, delighted, as Roy starts to thrust into his hand.

“Yeah, like that. Show me what you’ve got,” Ed husks, dropping into a low moan when Roy grinds back against him.

And oh, it must have been too long, because that’s enough. Ed’s cock pressed to his ass, Ed’s hand around him, Ed’s moan in his ear. Roy comes into Ed’s fist, digging his fingers into Ed’s hair with a stunned cry.

Ed pulls his hand from under Roy’s shirt and catches his jaw, turning his head to kiss him hard. Ed’s mouth works desperately, and Roy opens for him, sucks at his tongue. It’s almost perfect, Roy can almost lose himself to the soft sounds Ed makes into his mouth. Almost, except for the sticky sensation of Ed wiping Roy’s come off on Roy’s undershirt.

Roy grunts as he breaks the kiss, looking down. “For pity’s sake, Ed,” he grouses, faintly dizzy.

“Huh?” murmurs Ed, still trying to follow Roy’s mouth. When he realizes, he says, “You’re gonna take it off anyway.”

Roy tugs on Ed’s hair. “Not the point.”

He pushes himself away from Ed, batting away Ed’s questing hands. It takes a small adjustment to tuck himself back into his shorts, and then he moves to the hamper. He shrugs out of his button-up, his undershirt, dropping them in a rumpled ball. When he turns back to Ed, he finds him naked but, comically, for his undershirt. Ever impatient, Ed is leaned up against the edge of the bed, toying with his own cock.

Roy feels an idea turn itself over in his head.

“Edward,” he murmurs. “Lay back for me.”

Ed complies, scooting back until his head is on the pillow. His thighs spread in shameless invitation, and Roy slides between them on his knees. As he moves, he pushes Ed’s undershirt up to bunch under his arms. Ed takes a deeper breath, hollowing his stomach and raising his chest, wordless demand. Roy drags his thumbs over Ed’s hard, brown nipples and Ed digs his teeth into his lip on a groan.

“Yeah, yeah,” he urges, winding his hand around the back of Roy’s neck, trying to pull him down.

Roy resists. “Now, Edward,” he chides. He tugs sharply on one of Ed’s nipples to get his attention. Ed makes a wrecked, thin noise through his teeth.

Mildly, Roy says, “It’s as you said. I’m not at my sexual peak anymore. And since I’ve come, it’s going to take quite some time before I’m recovered enough to fuck you properly.”

Ed narrows his eyes. “That’s bullshit—“

“Isn’t it?” asks Roy, “You told me yourself. So now, well, I’ll have to while away my regrettably long refractory period. Goodness, what _ever_ shall I do.”

“I get it, I get it, fuck!” hisses Ed, arching when Roy gives his nipples a firm twist. “Fuck, point made, you’re a fuckin’ stud in his goddamn’ prime, you’ve got no reason to torture me.”

Roy smiles, so serene. “But it’s so fun.” He leans down, digging his knee into Ed’s hip to keep him from moving. “Maybe you’ve forgotten how good I am. It’s not torture, or you wouldn’t keep coming back.”

Ed catches his breath, staring up at Roy with his brows drawn together. He hears the challenge in Roy’s tone, the quiet promise. He breathes, “What did you have in mind?”

“Be still for me,” murmurs Roy, ducking his head to speak against the full curve of Ed’s lower lip. “Can you, without being tied?” He grins when Ed shivers. “Just a little obedience, that’s all I’m asking.”

Ed’s tongue darts out to catch him, but Roy pulls back. Ed huffs, dropping his head back to the pillow. “Fine. I’ll show you obedience, you fuckin’ control freak.” For all the insouciance in his voice, Ed gives his anticipation away with a shuddery lick of his lips.

Roy smiles, settling on his knees between Ed’s legs. “Oh, do. If you move, I’ll stop. I’m interested to see how long you’ll last.”

Ed snarls, but after a breath, visibly forces himself to relax. Roy waits for him to settle into the bed again, for his legs to go slack and parted, his hands loosely kneading at the sheets.

Only then does Roy grip the base of Ed’s cock, just shy of too tight.

And almost immediately lets go when Ed jolts.

Roy waits, patient, for Ed to hiss out a string of swears and get himself back under control. Like this, he’s already debauched, his cock leaking onto his belly, his shirt pushed up over his nipples, his hair stuck to the sweat on his neck. Roy’s well on his way to recovery, but a sight like this makes his stomach drop with heat.

“Are you quite alright?” he purrs, to Ed’s immediate fiery glare.

“I’m trapped with a sadist,” hisses Ed, even as he marshals himself back into stillness.

Roy grips him again, just as tight as before. Ed shivers, but stays still.

“I wonder what that makes you,” murmurs Roy. He strokes upward with near-infinite slowness. Ed begins to pant. He doesn’t answer, only digs his hands into the bedsheets.

Roy sets the slowest pace he can stand, too dry, too tight to satisfy at all. It’s almost meditative, the excruciating rhythm and the sweat beginning to bead on Ed’s chest. Ed’s emotions war on his face, his growing frustration at odds with his pride. Until, finally, he plateaus, slowing his breath to match Roy’s hand. He’s leaking precome over Roy’s fingers, his abs flexing as he fights not to roll his hips. Like this, controlled, balanced, Ed is transcendent.

It’s almost a shame to break him. Roy bends to suck a kiss to the head of Ed’s cock and Ed _writhes_ , almost sobbing when Roy pulls back entirely.

“Fuck you, fuck you, _fuck you_ ,” Ed chants, his voice cracking. “I can’t, you son of a bitch—“

“You can,” says Roy calmly. “You were doing so well.” He shifts better onto his knees, leaning over Ed with one hand braced by Ed’s head. With the other, he strokes Ed’s cheek before pressing two fingers into his mouth. “You’re so good, Ed.”

Ed fixes a glare on him that would be more effective if he didn’t immediately press his tongue to Roy’s fingertips. Roy pulls them free and reminds him, “Be still.”

Ed tenses fully as Roy drags his fingers down the length of his cock. But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t tell Roy to stop.

Roy hums, pleased, and strokes him, faster than before. “There. Look at you.”

Ed grits his teeth, glaring at Roy as hard as he can to keep his control. His breaths come harsher, but his hips stay still. Even as Roy sets a rhythm he _knows_ Ed likes, all Ed does is whine and dig his hands harder into the sheets.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck you Roy, fuck,” he hisses. His tone gets higher, more desperate. A pretty flush covers his cheeks, his eyes threatening to roll back. Ed’s whole body is taut as a bowstring, tendons standing out in his forearms, his neck.

“Now,” murmurs Roy, “I’m not entirely unreasonable. I don’t expect you to stay still when you come. You honestly can’t help it.” He smiles a little, just a quirk of his mouth, and sits back to watch. Ed looks as though he’s convinced he’s as far from coming as when they started, a determined set to the corners of his eyes.

It is an unrivaled pleasure, then, for Roy to drag his finger through the precome beading at the head of Ed’s cock and bring it to his lips, humming as he tastes Ed’s growing desperation, watches Ed’s eyes go wide.

Roy bends, sucks the head of Ed’s cock into his mouth, and Ed howls, his head thrown back. Still, Ed doesn’t move his hips, and Roy gives him credit for it, taking Ed as deep as he can and feeling Ed cry out in response. Each breath a moan, Ed comes thick over Roy’s tongue, shaking like he’ll fall apart. Roy sucks him through it, makes a point by licking Ed clean until Ed is shuddering and oversensitive, beyond words.

When Roy pulls back, his voice is hoarse. “Ed. Ed, you were so good.”

Ed brings his right knee up a little, slowly loosening his grip. He just breathes.

Roy climbs up over him, strokes Ed’s hair away from his face. “Ed.”

With effort, Ed focuses on him, runs his tongue over dry lips. “Showed you,” he says, finding a grin and pulling it on.

“You did,” agrees Roy, kissing him soft and close-mouthed. Ed sighs.

“D’jyou ever get it back up, old man?” asks Ed, pawing at the waistband of Roy’s boxers.

Roy huffs a little, catching Ed’s hand and bringing it up to kiss his palm. “Yes. Don’t worry about it.”

“Just roll me over,” says Ed, and now his grin has teeth in it. “I’m good for it.”

“You have an unerring sense of romance,” deadpans Roy, despite the interested twitch his cock gives at Ed’s tone. “Truly, no sweeter words have been spoken than ‘just roll me over’.”

Ed laughs, arching into a languid stretch. “You’ve got choices. I got a mouth on me, too.”

“So I hear,” says Roy dryly. A moment’s consideration brings Roy to tuck himself against Ed’s side, rubbing slow circles on Ed’s chest. “I choose this.”

Something in Ed’s expression softens, warms.

Roy can’t help it. “At least until you’re able to roll _yourself_ over.”

Ed shoves at him, snickering. He’s weak as a kitten, but there’s still heat in his gaze. “You mean it? I heard somethin’ about fuckin’ me.”

“I did promise that,” Roy agrees. He drags his nails through the hair at the base of Ed’s cock. “But I thought I’d give you a choice.”

Ed’s eyes flutter as Roy cups his balls, easy and possessive. “Nnfuck - choice?”

It’s almost sweet, how comfortable Ed is like this. Roy rubs his thumb over the crease where Ed’s thigh meets his hip and says, “How do you want it?”

With a soft hum, Ed breathes, “Hard. Now.”

Roy bites the curve of Ed’s shoulder. “Brat.”

“Fuck me,” says Ed, starting to laugh. “Fuck me right. _Properly._ All according to rules and, and—oh! Oh, and regulations,” he moans. Roy rubs teasing circles just behind his balls, all promise and not enough pressure. Ed arches, trying to press into it. He spreads his legs, digging his heels into the sheets, but Roy doesn’t give him anything but the gentlest touch.

“I’ve got half a mind to make you finger yourself open for me,” Roy hisses, shifting so he can whisper against Ed’s ear. “See if you can still run your mouth then."

Ed’s cock perks, trying to swell against Roy’s wrist. Ed’s jaw drops, loosing a shaky gasp. He swallows hard. “You _like_ my mouth.”

Roy grins, lets Ed feel the scrape of his teeth over his ear. “Filling it, yes.” He pointedly grinds against Ed’s hip. The sudden, delicious pressure on his cock almost aches with how he’s neglected it. The way Ed groans, Ed’s feeling it too.

“Yeah, yes, later,” Ed promises, “Get the fuckin’ lube, come on.”

Roy pulls away, but rather than reach for the nightstand he rolls onto his back and tucks his hands under his head. “Get it yourself.”

Ed fixes him with a caustic glare, ruined by the immediacy with which he’s on his knees, throwing one leg over Roy’s hip to reach the nightstand. Ed whips his shirt off over his head, throwing it in the general direction of the hamper, giving Roy a view of flexing muscle, the pale gold of his skin smooth but for the marks of old battles that cut furrows into him. It wouldn’t be Ed without them, from the faint white whisper-lines to the explosions of scar tissue. They’re as much a part of him as the freckles that wrap over his shoulders, as the pale white-gold highlights in his eyelashes, as the hoarse hitch in his voice when he growls, “Lazyass.”

“Shall I open the bottle for you, then?” murmurs Roy, grinning.

Ed rolls his eyes and makes a show of pulling the cap from the lube with just enough force that some of it spatters on Roy’s chest. “Whoops.”

Roy grunts with the cold, but Ed only laughs, smearing his fingers through the drops. “You gonna help or just watch?” he husks, dragging the slick over his cock. It’s soft, still, but from the way Ed sucks in a breath it won’t be for long.

In response, Roy pulls his hands from behind his head. As Ed’s grip on his own cock gets a little firmer, Roy slides his fingertips over Ed’s thighs. He gets two good handfuls of Ed’s ass and squeezes hard, spreading him. “Will that work?”

“Fuck, yeah. Yeah, that’s— yeah,” Ed breathes. He fumbles more lube into his hand, and this time neither of them care if a few drops miss. Ed braces his forearm on the wall above Roy’s head and reaches back, taking a shuddering breath as he works himself open.

Roy can’t look away from Ed’s face. He knows he’s leaving marks with his fingernails, knows from the gentle brushes of heated skin between them that Ed’s hard again, but nothing is more important than Ed’s eyebrows drawing together and up, than Ed’s teeth set into his lower lip and the way he hisses when it starts to really feel good. Ed’s eyes flutter open and meet Roy’s. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He smiles, just a little.

It’s almost painful when Ed grinds down against him, catching on the fabric of his boxers. “C-can’t believe you’re still in those,” he rasps. Roy kneads at his ass, pulling him down harder. Ed yelps, pressing his forehead to his arm. “Fuck, fuck, come _on_.”

“Move, move, move,” Roy urges, and they scramble. Ed yanks at Roy’s shorts, wiping his hands clean with what dry bits of fabric are left. They shift, so Roy can get out from under him and Ed can get onto his hands and knees.

Roy moves the lube, half caps it, finds a condom. By the time he gets it open and on, Ed is making quiet, impatient sounds from the head of the bed.

For just a breath, Roy takes him in. Needy shivers and the perfect bow of Ed’s spine. Ed’s chest expanding as he breathes hard, the minute shifting of Ed’s legs, spreading in invitation.

But oh, Roy is weak. He rubs his thumb over Ed’s hole so Ed will moan for him, holds him steady with one hand at Ed’s hip, and with the other guides his cock in, and in, and in.

Ed’s back bows further, ragged sounds on his breath. “Yeah, yeah, fuck. Don’t stop—“ he’s begging, the words slurring when Roy starts to move. Slow, at first, to hear Ed’s voice drop low and breathy. Slow, so Roy can keep his head when all he wants is to nail Ed through the mattress. He’s hot, so hot. Roy braces his leg against Ed’s automail for its reassuring, cool weight.

Roy pushes harder, faster, short, sharp jerks of his hips. Ed’s hands scrabble at the sheets, his shoulders shaking. It’s electric, Ed’s responsiveness, his complete lack of shame. He moans, not trying to hide it, his back flexing as he grinds into Roy’s thrusts.

Urged by his sounds, Roy fucks into him still harder, digging bruises into his hips. Ed’s head falls forward. He swears, pleading. “Fuck fuck fuckfuck _yes_ , fuck, just like that, fuck me like _that_ —” and squirms down further so Roy can get as deep as he can. Every thrust makes Ed’s cock bob, so that when Roy catches it in his hand his knuckles brush the sticky spot on Ed’s stomach. Ed keens, high and shocked, his hips stuttering.

“Like this?” Roy gasps. His voice isn’t controlled any more, as desperate as Ed’s.

His grip on Ed’s cock is loose, barely more than something for Ed to rock into, but Ed sobs, “Yes, Roy, oh fuck, oh,” and he’s coming, clenching around Roy. Ed wails, shaking, kneading at the sheets, but still he keeps his legs spread, ass up. Even when he has to shove Roy’s hand off of his cock, he stays where he is, goading Roy with hoarse, appreciative moans.

Roy presses his hand between Ed’s shoulders and Ed goes down, shoulders flexing. Like this, Ed has to turn his head, and Roy can finally see him in profile, the way his jaw works on his sounds, the way his eyes roll back. It changes the angle just enough that Roy can bury himself deep, and all Ed can do is take him.

“Come on, Roy, come on-n,” Ed gasps. “Give it to me. I want it, fuck, come on.”

Roy shudders, helpless to deny him. He comes with a bitten-off cry, his hips jerking. Ed moans with him, softer now. He reaches back blindly, presses his hand over Roy’s on his hip.

The aftershocks creep up on Roy, making him shiver and stay buried in Ed as long as he can. He rubs circles on Ed’s hipbones, clutching at the soft creases in his skin. Beneath him, Ed is pliant, panting, his eyes closed in fucked-out bliss. Still, Roy pulls out slowly so Ed can adjust, rubbing Ed’s thighs and lower back.

By the time he slips the condom off and wraps it in a tissue, Ed’s slumped onto his side, artfully avoiding the wet spot. He gives Roy a half-focused smile.

“C’mere,” Ed murmurs.

Roy wants nothing more than to agree, but he knows. Soon, Ed’s going to start sticking, and that unpleasantness is worth a moment’s work to avoid. He pushes himself up from the bed and says, “In a minute.”

His legs are like jelly but he forces himself to walk to the bathroom, to wet a cloth and wipe himself down. He brings it out to Ed, intending to offer it, but all Ed does is hum and turn so Roy can get to him.

Something about that isn’t brattiness. It’s trust, absolute trust. So Roy cleans him up, gentle touches trying not to linger. Ed watches him, his burnished-gold gaze contented.

Once Ed’s reasonably clean, Roy climbs onto the bed beside him. When Ed rolls toward him, he tucks his arm over Ed and starts rubbing firm circles into his lower back. Ed moans, pleased, tucking his face against Roy’s neck.

Here, now, in the warm afterglow, Roy dares it. “You were gone too long, this time.”

It’s not an argument Roy’s ever risked having, especially not when their coupling was too new. Even saying the words, the idea of demanding more of Ed now, twists his guts.

Ed just sighs. He presses his face better into Roy’s neck. So quiet, barely even a word, Ed murmurs, “Yeah.”

And then, the hard planes of Ed’s teeth press against Roy’s skin as Ed grins. “Gonna need that every fuckin’ day. I can’t feel my _knees_ , you beautiful bastard.”

Roy snorts. “Every day?”

“Sometimes twice,” Ed agrees, grabbing Roy’s ass and giving it a squeeze. “If you can manage it.”

Roy gets a handful of Ed’s hair and gives it gentle tug. “I’m going to ruin you,” he promises, his voice rough.

Ed lets Roy pull his head back, and mouths his jaw. “You’d better.”


End file.
